5SOS one shots (boys x Reader)


6. Sad Day pt 2

It’s not right. Nothing of this is right. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong, and Y/N’s still not doing anything about it. Michael’s not even being secretive about it anymore. It’s like he knows how much he means to her and that she'd probably never grow a spine and tell him off, confront him for going off sleeping around with other girls while he’s in a relationship with her.


She’s weak. She’s always been strong, but now she’s weak. She’s become something that she swore she would never ever become. She’s become the type of girl to be so bloody dependant on someone that the mere thought of losing them is enough to drive her into a constant state of depression, or something, even though Y/N knows damn well that she’s just one girl amongst Michael’s many others.   


Michael’s going out again tonight. And, like, Y/N’s usually okay with that because she’s still slowly building up the courage to confront him about his other girls, to tell him that she’ll be okay – that they'll be okay – if he just stops this now. They can still work on their relationship. Because Michael means so much to her and Y/N knows that she, at least, means something to him because if she didn’t then he’d have probably long ago left her to freely be with anyone without having to sneak around (because he did used to sneak around and she was too oblivious to notice, then he became more obvious and Y/N kinda wishes she could continue on being as oblivious as before).    


Y/N’s not okay with Michael going out tonight because it’s their bloody anniversary and he hasn’t done shit to acknowledge it. And it hurts – in the simplest of terms. It hurts because she always knew that she meant something to him, yeah? Just a little something, but still something.


But now, she’s doubting that. Maybe she never meant anything to him at all. Never have, never will.    


Y/N’s sat in the kitchen when the front door is finally pushed open. She glances at the wall clock. It’s half two in the morning. She bites on her bottom lip, waiting for him to come into the kitchen because the light’s on and he’ll come investigating why it’s turned on.    


“Y/N?” There he is. Furrowed brows, tone mildly concerned. “What are you still doing up?”   


“We need to talk,” she says firmly, swallowing down whatever tears she already knows is going to make an uninvited guest appearance.    


Michael smiles slightly, making a move to walk towards her, “Couldn’t it wait till morning? Come on, baby, go back to bed, we'll – ”   


“– No, Michael. We’re talking now,” her tone’s firm again. Firm, strong, and she’s not backing down. She’s not going to put this off anymore.    


“… Okay,” he humours her, leaning against his side against the counter and crossing his arms loosely across his chest. “Talk, then,” he says and it’s almost in a mocking tone with that fucking smug smirk on his face that Y/N has never wanted to smack off of his face, until now.    


“You need to stop,” Y/N says after taking in a deep breath.   


“Stop what?” He’s mocking her now. Proper mocking her. He knows how much he means to her, that she’ll probably never mean it even if he keeps at it – keeps seeing other girls whilst still with her as his girlfriend.    


But she’s done. She officially fucking done with him.    


“You know what,” Y/N practically seethes then, narrowing her eyes over at him as she gets to her feet. “Stop fucking other girls. Stop pretending like I don’t exist. Stop everything. Stop,” she finishes off in a whisper.    


“What are you talking about?” Michael has the audacity to ask. He takes a small step forward but is stopped when Y/N outstretches a hand and then takes a step back. “Y/N – ”   


“I’m not daft, Michael. I know that you’ve probably got, like, three other girlfriends. And honestly? If you stop this now then I’m willing to forget it and, like, start over with you. Because I do love you, a lot, but you have got to stop seeing other people,” she almost begs and she’s not supposed to beg so what the fuck is she doing?   


Michael breathes out a chuckle. A chuckle. “Babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about – ”   


And his mouth keeps moving, sentences and lies leaving his lips, but Y/N’s stopped listening. All she hears is a buzz because she’s tuned him out. She’s angry now. Fuck, she's fuming. It’s at that moment that she decides to herself that, you know what? Fuck saving the relationship. I obviously mean nothing to him, so why should I bother anymore? I deserve someone who loves me. Someone who cares. Someone who isn’t going to cheat on me with multiple other girls whilst with me.


“Fuck you,” she says, and apparently she’s cut him off mid-sentence since he's suddenly stopped talking and is looking at her with furrowed brows. “I’m done.”   


“… What?”   


“You heard me,” Y/N says. “Fuck. You. I am done. I’ve put up with this for fuck knows how long because I’m so in love with you and I couldn’t actually picture a life without you in it, but now I’m done. Because at the end of the day, I don’t care about you. Well. I do. But not as much as I care about myself. I’m putting myself first and by doing that?” She cracks a small smile, “By doing that, it’s me saying goodbye to you because you are toxic. The relationship was never a relationship, was it? Whatever. I’m done with you.”   


“Babe – ”   


“Don’t call me that. Actually, you know what?” She asks rhetorically, shoving past him. “Don’t call me at all. Ever.”  

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